Dragon Clan #3: Fleet's Story

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The dragon ate another sheep just before dark. Fleet checked the blood-soaked blankets and found them still stuck firmly to the raw flesh, flies covering it like a second blanket. He couldn’t think of any improvement or addition so left everything alone.

The dragon kept her eyes on him, and every move he made. She didn’t seem friendly or angry, just interested. At one point she sniffed him, her muzzle almost touching him. He stood fast, not wanting to disturb her.

While he examined the dragon, Tessa built a small fire protected from sight by building a ring of flat rocks almost knee high. As the fire warmed the rocks, they threw off enough heat to warm the two people huddled next to each other since they had no blankets to sleep under.

Tessa said, “Is it any better?”

“I think so.”

“I’ve been thinking. When they fought, the green must have raked her side, and maybe she inflicted a few wounds on the green. But the bite in the breast could have killed her. I think she probably dove for the ground and when she saw that crack she instinctively dove into it and pulled her head down.”

“Why didn’t the green land and finish her off?”

Tessa held her hands to the fire. The night air was already chilly and would get worse. After a lull, while she thought, she turned and said, “Because dragons are clumsy on the ground, that’s why.”

“There are no other animals out here that would attack a dragon.”

“No, you miss my point. They move slow and awkward. The green might have landed and approached her, but didn’t like the circumstances.”

“Sorry, I still don’t understand.”

“The neck and head of a dragon travels so fast we can’t hardly see it. They snap birds right out of the air. But the body is big and slow. So when the green approached the black, it couldn’t get to the black’s body without exposing itself. Our dragon was like it wore a suit of solid rock.”

“Yes. Hiding in that crack, the only thing above ground was her neck and head. The green would see that and to attack would expose her whole underside to the black.”

“I’m sure that’s what happened. Now I’m worried that the green will either return or lead others here.”

That idea hadn’t crossed his mind. He sat and considered everything and came to a conclusion. “Will you be all right if I head back to town?”

“Tonight?”

“We still have our room at the inn. I can sleep there and be up at first light. We need weapons. Bows.”

She lifted her chin. “Yes, we fight for her. Go.”

Fleet stood. There was nothing to pack so he started to leave but turned. “If the green returns or she brings men, you head out into the drylands.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He picked his way back to the road and then alternated between running and walking. One hundred steps of each. When he entered the Red Bear people were still drinking. He was almost to the stairs when he heard his name called.

Turning, he found the man called Caldor at a table, sitting alone. Caldor’s expression changed, and he leaped to his feet. “Do you have a room upstairs?”

Fleet nodded as Caldor used his shoulder to both push and hide Fleet from the other people. At the top of the stairs, Caldor said, “Blood all over you.”

“Not mine.”

“Blood always draws attention. I wasn’t sure you’d be back.”

“I need to get some things.” Fleet sat on the bed and exhaled, his breath fast and rapid.

“A friend of yours is injured?”

“You might say that. And in danger.”

“You need weapons?”

“I do. First thing in the morning I’ll get them.” Caldor was giving him a hard look, begging him to go on, but Fleet had said enough.

“What sort of weapons, son?”

Fleet couldn’t see that it mattered to tell him. “Longbows if I can find them. Do you know of a shop near here?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I have a good friend who sells what you need. Care to walk with me?”

“Now?”

“I doubt if he is asleep, although his shop is closed. But he is a friend and owes me a favor or two. Come on.”

Fleet hesitated, wondering if this could be a trap of some sort. He then decided that if Caldor wanted him dead or captured, he could have simply allowed the exhaustion to overcome Fleet, and then taken him while he slept. He nodded and stood.

Caldor escorted him down closer to the ships and the shady part of town with the men fighting in drunken brawls and puking the rum they had paid for earlier. They avoided everyone by staying in the shadows as much as possible. At a closed-door Caldor knocked, and when no answer came, he beat his fist on the door.

It creaked open a thin crack and then was thrown open by a white-haired man wearing a big smile. “Caldor. What in six saints brings you here?”

Stepping inside, and pulling Fleet with him, he said, “My friend with all the blood on him needs a longbow and arrows. He’s in a rush, so I’ll pay a premium because of disturbing you.”

The man shook his head in denial at the suggestion as he lighted two lamps from the candle he carried. The inside of the shop held weapons of all types. Knives lay on tables, swords hung from pegs, and a hundred bows stood against the wall.

Fleet moved towards them as if pulled by their presence. He saw the bows used by the king’s men, taller than he stood and in good, but used condition. Probably spoils of some war. He selected three because one may have a defective string or crack and he didn’t have time to inspect them. One bow for each of them, and one spare.

“Arrows?” the man asked, nodding approvingly at his selection of bows.

“Fifty?” Fleet said.

“That many? Okay, I have them. Quivers?”

“At least two. Fill them as full as you can.”

The old man reached for military quivers under a counter and began stuffing arrows inside. He didn’t count. Fleet didn’t miss the exchange of looks between him and Caldor.

The man asked, “Anything else?”

“Blankets, if you have them.”

“I have thin ones the king gives his men. How many do you need?”

“Four,” Fleet decided. They could sleep on one and under the other. If that were not warm, they would wrap themselves in them. But carrying two quivers and three bows, as well as the blankets would be a full load.

“And what else?”

Fleet was about to pay, but held off. An idea came to mind. “Maps. Do you have any maps?

“A few. Mostly I have sea charts.”

“Can I see them?”

Soon the old man rolled the first on the table. It showed the coastline to the north. He nodded and set it aside. The second, third, and fourth were nothing he was interested in, but the fifth displayed the Endless Sea, islands, and the land on the other side. His heart beat faster, but he remained steady while he placed it with the first as if it held minimal interest.

There were ten more. He selected two at random, hoping to confuse Caldor and the shopkeeper as to which held his interest. “I’ll take these four. Do you have any that shows the routes through the drylands to the king’s Summer Palace?”

“I don’t think you’re going to find a map of that. Besides, it would pretty much just be an empty sheet of parchment.” He laughed at his own joke as he rolled the maps put them back into a barrel.

“What do I owe?” Fleet asked.

“Two small silvers should cover it.”

Before Fleet could retrieve the coins from an inside pocket, Caldor had laid two, plus a large copper on the counter. “For helping us after hours.” He helped Fleet place one quiver over his left shoulder and the other over his right. The four thin blankets were rolled around the rolled maps and tucked under his left arm. The bows were held in his right hand. He thanked the shopkeeper and stepped outside with Caldor.

On the street, Fleet said, “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’ll walk with you to the edge of town, just to be safe. Besides, I have a few things to ask of you in return.”

Fleet felt compromised. Had Caldor befriended him only to betray him? As he mulled over their relationship and what had happened this night, Fleet contemplated that maybe, Caldor was not necessarily his friend. Nor his enemy. The questions he asked might reveal Caldor’s intentions. Fleet switched the bows to his left hand and loosened the knife at his hip with his right. Only one of them might live long enough to see the dawn.

Caldor walked at his side, his eyes watching the shadows. He also kept track of each person walking, either in front, behind, or coming their way. Once he steered them to the far side of the street, going by a pub with dim lighting and no music.

As they ventured to the edge of the taller buildings, Caldor relaxed, as if he had expected trouble back there. Fleet had remained silent the entire way. Now was the time to talk. “You wanted to ask me some questions.”

“I just want to make a few things clear between you and I. Allow me to talk while we walk.” He waited for Fleet to agree.

“Okay, then. Please do not do me the disservice of interrupting or denying what I say. You and the woman you were with are Dragon Clan. You are not the only people who can call down a dragon, but you may or may not know that.”

Fleet slipped the knife from the scabbard and continued walking, face emotionless.

Caldor glanced down at his hand, but continued speaking as if it was empty. “There is evil in our world. And there is good. As history tells us, there are times when a class of people behaves in a way that is abhorrent. A few lead and the rest follow a dark path.”

The talk didn’t sound threatening, so far, except for the statement that he and Tessa were Dragon Clan. Other than that, it sounded much like one of his father’s talks. Fleet wished he’d get on with it because he wanted to hurry back to the wounded dragon, as well as Tessa. She might need help keeping the wolves away. But he said nothing.

“Today there were two dragons fighting. I suspect that soon two peoples will be fighting while the rest know nothing of what is happening. When another of your people returns to Fleming, tell him or her of the Red Bear Inn. And of me. I usually take my evening meals there at least three or four days in ten.”

Caldor slowed and held out his hand to shake. Fleet slipped the knife into the scabbard and shook his hand. And then Caldor turned and walked back to Fleming without another glance over his shoulder.

Strange. Fleet watched him until he was lost in the darkness. Then he turned and walked away as fast as his tired body allowed. There were words unsaid, puzzles within puzzles, and far more questions that there had been yesterday. Time. Fleet needed time to think about and review all he’d heard and learned.

But first came the dragon who was hurt and unable to defend herself. The green that had fought with it, would return. Of that he had no doubt. It might be hurt, and more likely return to its roost to recover. By then, there would not enough time left in the day. Dragons hate night flying at night, so the earliest it would return was tomorrow.

The wolves might also return. Injured dragons on the ground were almost helpless. Their bodies were supreme in the air, but cumbersome and awkward on the ground. However, any animal that thinks it would attack a dragon on the ground had better account for the serpentine neck and mouth full of teeth, not to mention the speed it moved.

The bows, quivers, and blankets were awkward, too. If he had taken the time, he could have found several ways to carry them easier, but when Calder had appeared and offered his help, Fleet had gratefully accepted. Thinking of all the ways the dragon could be injured, and the possibility of the green returning, he hadn’t believed Tessa could keep them at bay.

Turning off the road onto the path came as a relief. The dawn was still far off. He ignored his tired body, the sleep filling his eyes, and the hunger in his belly. He put the stranger, Caldor from his mind for things that were more immediate.

He stumbled and twisted an ankle. He limped along and brushed against a cactus, then spent time limping and plucking spines from his leg and arm. A low throated growl warned him of a sizeable beast nearby, but he shuffled ahead and soon the sound was lost in the darkness.

After crossing the stream where he had scooped water for the dragon, he realized he didn’t know the way. He could have crossed the stream anywhere along its length. A touch of panic crept into his mind. If he went to sleep, he was so tired that he would probably remain asleep until late in the day.

When he reached the top of the next hill, he paused and listened to the night sounds. It was not long before dawn and the creatures that filled the night were settling down for the day. It was almost quiet. He called, “Tessa!”

When he received no answer, he called again. Then he moved to the next hilltop and tried again. And the next.

When the eastern sky turned pink, he stood on yet another hilltop and called, while turning in a full circle. The morning light illuminated the far off sides of the drylands, as well as several landmarks he’s seen the day before. It should be ahead of him, not behind.

He found another and realized he’d walked too far. But he felt the touch of the dragon and knew the way. The dragon and Tessa were behind him and further north. He could see better with the dawn, and his pace picked up not that the end of his trip was almost in sight.

While checking the landmarks again, movement in the sky drew his attention. A dragon was flying. It was no more than a speck against the pinkish-blue sky, but it was a dragon. No doubt. Fleet ran.

His sore ankle had swollen, but he barely felt the pain. The dragon had veered slightly and now flew almost directly at him. When he thought he was near the called Tessa over and over, limping forward as fast as possible.

She raced to his side and started to help him walk, asking a dozen questions, but he pointed breathlessly to the sky. She turned and saw it.

With a wild expression, she reached over his shoulder and grabbed a fistful of arrows. Then she took a bow and ran back to where the black dragon lay. He hurried after but heard the scream of the green, answered by the black before getting there.

Rounding a rocky hillside, he pulled to a stop. The green was falling from the sky, wings to its side, neck, and head extended. It was attacking.

He grabbed arrows and tossed all but one on the ground in front of him as he let go of everything else and bent a bow to string. The string slipped on, and he picked up an arrow just before the green extended its wings to glide over the black.

He saw the green flinch as Tessa’s arrow struck a hind leg. Distracted, the green passed over the injured black too high to snap at it, but it came right at Fleet. The head? No, the body. Too much chance of missing the head entirely, although one arrow there would do far more damage.

He let his arrow fly. The dragon spotted him and dodged as he released. Instead of striking it in the breast where he’d aimed, it struck the underside, between the rear legs. He’d hit the soft belly, and the dragon roared in protest and pain.

Fleet ignored all that was happening and reached for a second arrow. He let it fly as the dragon passed well ahead of him. The arrow tracked well to one side with little hope of it striking. But the dragon was not done, yet. It gained altitude and circled.

Fleet managed to reach Tessa’s side. “It’s coming back.”

“This time for us.”

Fleet glanced at the black and realized that it was far healthier and ready to fight, although it would certainly lose. At the same time, he also realized that the crevasse it lay in was their protection. At the narrow end, it was only waist deep. “There.”

She looked at the crevasse and understood. Helping him limp to the edge, she kept a watch on the green. It made a final turn, screamed and dived. Both of them reached for their bows and pulled an arrow.

It ignored the black and dived right at them, talons extended, mouth open. Fleet heard Tessa’s bow snap, and the sound of her jumping into the split in the rock. He should release his arrow, too. But he held on. Her open maw of a mouth came closer and closer. I should shoot at its body again and get to safety.

Instead, he waited and ignored Tessa’s shriek as she realized he had remained exposed. Fleet watched the open mouth draw closer and released the arrow. His feet were yanked out from under him, and Tessa pulled him to safety.

The dragon flew on, screaming in pain, its body twisting from one side to the other as it tried to dislodge the arrow that had gone into its mouth.

“Idiot!” Tessa said.

“I think I hit it in the mouth. Where did yours go?”

“Upper breast. Do you realize that if I hadn’t pulled you down here, she would have had you in her claws?”

A single look in her direction revealed her fear and anger. The green still howled in pain and the black snarled and spit. The talons on her forelegs had actually touched him, knocking him back as she pulled his legs out from under him. He said, “You saved me, but I don’t think it was that close.”

“Here it comes again,” Tessa said.

Squatting in the split, he reached for another arrow. The green flew over them twisting and turning its head, flying erratically. He clearly saw the arrow in its rear leg, and blood streamed from its stomach and ran down the underside. That arrow much still be inside. The mouth was open, but from pain, not because it was attacking again. Somewhere in that mouth was an arrow.

It flew past them too high for an arrow to reach and disappeared in the direction of Fleming. Fleet climbed from the cleft and went to the black. He gave it a pat on the neck, hoping to lessen the shrieks of anger as he soothed it.

Tessa said, “The green would have killed both of us if it spat.”

“It didn’t spit on this one when they fought, yesterday.”

“Maybe it’s their way to fight to the death, but not to spit at each other.”

Fleet said, “I have things I dropped back there. Blankets and such. My ankle got twisted on the walk back here, and I think I need to stay off it.”

“I’ll get it later. How did you ever get weapons and manage to return so fast? I’m not complaining, you understand. If you hadn’t, that green would have finished the job.”

Fleet settled on a rock where he faced Fleming, in case the green, or another flew in their direction. He drew a deep breath and said, “That man, Caldor. He helped me.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“He saved the black, and probably you. But I have to agree with you. There is more to him than we know, but he did save us. The black looks better. Is it because she was fighting for her life, or is she really better?”

“She ate two more sheep. Her eyes are sharp, and she holds her head up, now. She’s better, but not ready to fly. I’ll go get the things you brought.”

When Tessa returned with the blankets, maps, arrows, and backpack, she paused and walked softly. Then she spread two of the blankets over the sleeping body of Fleet.